


Some Day This Crazy World Will Have To End

by xahra99



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
Genre: Apocalypse, Community: apocalyptothon, End of the World, Gen, Mayan Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:43:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xahra99/pseuds/xahra99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Evil League of Evil has unleashed the Mayan Apocalypse, and the world's about to end...or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Day This Crazy World Will Have To End

For kanedax' request: 'Billy's final secret blog entry, discovered by survivors of the Evil League of Evil's greatest triumph.' as part of the apocalyptothon lj challenge.

The SWAT team kicked in the basement door at precisely 4.05 am. The door exploded into splinters at the first blow. The soldiers had come loaded for bear, because there was no telling what you might find when you broke into a mad scientist's laboratory.

The apartment was a little less mad than they'd expected.

A ripped and stained dartboard with a picture of Captain Hammer's head pasted in the centre hung on the wall. An IKEA desk stood beneath the dartboard. It held an ordinary computer. A door in one wall led to a small kitchen. Saucepans and a wire framed colander hung from loops of yellow and green striped electrical wire. There were no weapons in the apartment. There were no other people. And there was no Doctor Horrible.

"You'd think a guy who could build a freeze ray in his basement wouldn't be...you know, living in a basement," muttered Stevens, the sniper.

Sergeant Juarez flipped up the visor of his helmet. "That's the Evil League of Evil for you. What a bunch of nutters."

A scream came from outside. The SWAT team instinctively ducked.

"Look at it this way," Sergeant Juarez said. 'We're probably safer here than anywhere else."

The two other soldiers nodded in agreement. The streets had not been safe since the Evil League of Evil had unleashed the Mayan apocalypse on the city of Los Angeles twelve hours ago. Exactly how they had achieved this was unclear, though the results were concrete enough. The Mayan Lords One Death and Seven Death stalked the boulevards with their attendant demons and entertained themselves by challenging Angelinos to puzzle contests. The puzzles were limericks in Mayan, and nobody had heard of anybody completing them. They had heard that those who failed were eaten. The soldiers assumed that they passed on to a Mayan underworld of unspeakable torture, but they had no desire to find out at first hand.

All things considered, Dr Horrible's apartment building had withstood the end of the world pretty well. A small hole in the ceiling bled powdery dust across the cheap linoleum flooring, and the glass in the kitchen windows was cracked into spider-webs. But the building was still standing and the power was still on, and there was a complete lack of Dr Horrible.

The SWAT team, freed from the dual threat of Mayan oblivion and scientific retribution, finally relaxed.

Wilson reached up and ran a hand through the tangle of glowing green neon tubes that hung from the ceiling. "What do these do?"

Sergeant Juarez slapped his hand away. "Do you really want to know?"

Stevens pointed at a glowing plasma ball. "Hey! I've got one of those."

Wilson edged slowly away from him. "Are you a mad scientist?" he asked Stevens suspiciously.

Juarez touched the plasma ball and watched as the plasma arced around his hand. "What does it do?"

Stevens seemed surprised by the question. "Do? It doesn't do anything."

The SWAT team fanned out around the basement, kicking aside laundry baskets full of red lab coats and rummaging through folders full of blueprints marked 'TOP SECRET.'

Stevens shoved aside a battered orange chintz armchair. "That's a really big chair."

"Really big armchairs do not mad scientists make." Juarez said.

"That's very philosophical of you, Sarge."

"Just find his damn plans," snapped Juarez."There must be something. The Evil League of Evil always makes sure everyone knows their evil schemes. But this time-nothing! There must be plans hidden here! A clue, at least!"

Stevens held up a jar. Something floated in its murky depths. "Sarge, do you think this is a clue?"

"It's a pickle." Juarez said.

"Oh." Stevens put down the jar. He picked up another one. "This one's olives."

"Stop searching his food cupboard and go and look through that stuff!" Juarez shouted. "

Sarge?"

Juarez glanced up from his own search, "Yes, Wilson?"

"I've got a question." Wilson said. He put down a pile of brain scans and flexed his shoulders. "Why didn't somebody stop them?"

"Bad Horse took all the superheroes out weeks ago. Don't you watch the news?"

Wilson nodded. "Yeah, Sarge, I do. But I didn't realize the League was such a threat. They look like a bunch of guys in funny costumes."

Juarez sighed. "You're not from around here, are you, Wilson?"

"No, Sarge, but..."

"The moral of the story here in LA is: never underestimate a bunch of guys in funny costumes. After all, they're the reason the Mayan gods of friggin' death are stomping around out there in my city."

Wilson gestured around the apartment. "But how is this guy going to help us stop them?"

"Wilson, Doctor Horrible is the brain behind the League. If we take him down, then well, success and promotions will be ours."

"But he's not here." Wilson pointed out. "Well then, we have to find his evil plan. It'll be here somewhere, mark my words. And then...promotions!" "

And the mythological apocalypse will be averted."

Juarez waved a dismissive hand. "That, too."

"But there's just this computer and a bunch of useless crap!"

Both soldiers spun and grabbed at their guns as a creaking noise filled the room. Both of them simultaneously relaxed as they saw Stevens flip over a whiteboard.

Juarez frowned as the board came to a stop. "What the hell is that?"

The left half of the whiteboard was filled with calculations. The calculations flowed towards a single point in the centre of the board, forming an arrow shape, becoming smaller and more simplified as they went. The apex of the arrow was an equals sign scrawled in thick red marker. Alongside the '=' was a small stick figure of a man in a coat and goggles, and a girl with red hair that reached her shoulders. They were holding hands.

Juarez looked at the diagram and at the apex of the arrow. The arrow pointed towards the computer. Its green power button glowed.

Juarez walked to the computer and touched the keyboard. The computer hummed to life. Its screen flickered. Stevens, startled by the noise, fired automatically, and the bullet released a family of experimental mice.

"Stop it, you fool!" Juarez snapped. He stamped his boots to discourage rodent invaders and peered at the screen. It displayed a media player. The player was blank, but there was a small progress bar at the bottom.

Juarez pressed 'Play.'

The screen displayed a pink blur. The blur gradually resolved itself into a hand, which drew back from the screen. A thin man wearing a brown hooded sweatshirt sat down in the chair facing the computer.

Juarez recognized the background to the shot. He turned his head and checked. Minus a few SWAT-induced damages, the kitchen looked the same on the film as it did now. "That's Dr Horrible," he said. 'Must be a recording."

Stevens peered at the screen. "That's not Doctor Horrible!"

Juarez hit pause. "Why is it not Doctor Horrible?" he asked the sniper in a voice that dripped with patience and sarcasm.

"Dr Horrible wears goggles."

"It's Dr Horrible without his goggles."Juarez said, resisting the urge to pick up the computer and bludgeon Stevens to death with it. Stevens was a brilliant, brilliant sniper. He was the man you would want by your side (or, even better, far away on a tall building) in a tricky bank robbery, or a hostage situation gone wrong. He was most emphatically not the man for any operation requiring intense thought.

"He looks like the kid I used to beat up in gym class." Juarez said, squinting at the picture. "Small, with a big forehead."

"Should we even be watching this?" Wilson asked.

Juarez looked genuinely surprised. "Who's going to know?"

Wilson pointed to the three of them. "We will!"

"Nobody's going to tell, are they, Stevens?"

Stevens saluted. "No, Sarge."

"Are they, Wilson?" Wilson sighed. "No, Sarge."

Juarez nodded in satisfaction. He pressed 'Play' again and the doctor said, " _I didn't mean for this to happen_."

Juarez blinked. He had expected a maniacal laugh, or some wacky musical number. Not a monologue from some guy who looked about as normal as you could possibly get, barring the look in his eyes. Dr Horrible's eyes looked like he had been to Hell and back. There was a rip in his brown sweatshirt. He had a split lip.

" _My name's Billy. And yes, I'm Doctor Horrible. But I never wanted this. I never wanted to end the world. This was all a mistake_."

Juarez snorted. "That's what they all say. A mistake."

" _I killed Penny_ ," said Billy/Dr Horrible. " _I didn't mean to, but I did_."

"Who's Penny?" Stevens said.

"Who cares?" said Juarez. He reached over and paused the movie. "We have a confession."

"A bunch of people saw him do all kinds of awful stuff." Wilson said.

"We don't need a confession. We need a solution." He looked around the empty flat. "Besides, we'd need to find him first."

"Wasn't Penny Captain Hammer's girlfriend?" asked Stevens. "The one who was in the papers all that time ago?"

"You're right." Juarez said. He looked at the sniper in surprise. "How'd you remember?"

"I thought she was cute." Stevens said wistfully.

"Too much information, Stevens." Juarez said. He hit 'Play' again.

" _The League stole my temporal manipulator_ ," said Dr Horrible. " _My Time Ray. I meant to use it to go back in time and save Penny. I told them I wanted no part in their plan, but they stole my machine and they used it anyway. I was too late to stop them. They sent the world forwards in time to 2012_."

"So that's what happened,' Wilson said.

Dr Horrible moved closer to the screen. His voice lowered to a whisper. " _They've unleashed the_ Mayan apocalypse."

Stevens patted his jacket. "They sent the world forwards in time?" He thumped his chest. "I'm lookin' pretty good for a thirty-five year old."

Juarez rolled his eyes. "Stevens, please."

"How can turning the clock forwards cause the apocalypse?" Wilson asked. "It happens every year. It's called Daylight Savings Time."

"As I understand it," said Juarez, as he paused the tape for what seemed the umpteenth time, "the Mayan calendar counts down. To 2012."

"What happens then?"

"What do you think?" Juarez pointed towards the window. "Do Mayan death gods ring any bells? Look, no more questions. I'm just a sergeant. I don't get paid to think."

"Like hell, Sarge." Stevens said loyally.

"-but we better sit down and shut up and listen to what this man has to say if we want to have any chance of stopping it, okay?" He tapped the mouse.

Dr Horrible hunched forwards, towards the screen. He glanced over his shoulder. " _I haven't got much time_!' he hissed, " _I stole the Time Ray back from the League, but they're almost here. I'm going to use the ray to go back, and I'm going to find Penny. I should have done it years ago. The machine's got one more charge left after I'm gone. Whoever you are, you have to use it! Turn the clock back to 2009. Save the world." He got up from his chair and walked to the left off screen. The sound of footfalls echoed from the speakers, then a whisper. "This world's got to end someday. But I can't do it. I'm sorry. I can't do it_."

The SWAT team stood in silence for a moment before they erupted.

"What did he mean, we haven't got much time?" Wilson asked.

"Never mind that, where did he put that blasted machine? Where did he go?" Juarez demanded.

"He's gone back to the future," Stevens said. "Only without the car."

"Thanks for your input, Stevens," Juarez said dryly. "Now, about that machine?"

Wilson shoved Stevens. "Actually, he's gone back to the past..."

"Details, Wilson." Juarez snapped. "Not important."

The sound of horseshoes on sidewalk concrete came from outside Doctor Horrible's apartment. The SWAT team explained glances.

"Bad Horse!" Juarez and Stevens whispered simultaneously.

"A horse doesn't sound so scary to me." Wilson said. "Even a bad one."

"Then you haven't met this horse!" Juarez snapped as Stevens overturned a table for cover. Conical flasks smashed and colored liquids spattered across the floor as they crawled behind the upturned piece of furniture. Only Wilson remained standing as the sound of horseshoes grew closer.

"What are you doing?" Juarez hissed.

Wilson grinned cockily as he snapped the safety off his rifle. "Take cover, you pussies. You might be from LA, but I'm from Wyoming, and we know how to treat horses where I come from. I'll deal with this myself."

"Wilson, stop!" Juarez hissed as the clopping noises halted outside the basement door. A dusky shadow could just be seen through the tinted glass. "Think, god damn you. Would a normal horse even be able to get down the stairs to this apartment?"

Wilson turned his head. "I don't know what that's got to-"

The remnants of the door ripped apart. A brown horse with a wide white blaze down its nose stood in the doorway. It turned its mild dark eyes on Wilson and opened its mouth.

"The Death Whinny!" Juarez hissed.

Wilson's finger tightened on his trigger. Before he could shoot a terrible noise echoed through the building. Juarez and Stevens huddled behind the upturned table and stuck their fingers in their ears.

Juarez cautiously raised his head when it was all over. The horse nosed curiously at a pair of military-issue leather boots. The smoke pouring out of them was all that was left of Wilson.

"Poor bastard," muttered Stevens.

"Alas, we barely knew him," said Juarez. 'Now move!"

Stevens snatched up his gun. Juarez, searching for an alternative exit route, crawled out from behind the table. He opened the door of the closet and stared. Behind a layer of black rubber boots stood a strange looking contraption.

Doctor Horrible had hidden his Time Ray in the shoe cupboard.

"Stevens! Over here!"

The horse opened its mouth again. Juarez dived into the cupboard. Stevens followed a moment later. Bad Horse's second whinny shredded splinters from the doorframe as Juarez and Stevens crouched over Dr Horrible's Time Ray. A LCD panel glowed faintly in the dark.

_Set temporal deviation? Current setting: years_

Juarez reached out and pressed ' _-3_ '

_Current temporal setting: July 12, 2012. Temporal deviation'-3' on setting 'years' results in temporal setting: July 12, 2009. Y/N?_

Juarez pressed 'Y'.

"Hurry up!" Stevens whispered.

_Temporal setting: July 12, 2009. Now charging...._

A progress bar began to fill with blue light.

"Sarge?"' whispered Stevens "You want me to go out and create a distraction?"

Juarez shook his head, realizing as he did so that there was no way Stevens would be able to see the movement in the poor light. "We've got time," he said.

As the words left his lips he hoped that he was right. The door slid open. Stevens yanked at the handle.and the door slid closed again.

The progress bar winked out. _Activating..._

Juarez wondered if he should help Stevens, but there was no room in the small space, and besides, it probably wouldn't do any good. How in hell could the horse open the door anyway?

There was a burst of blinding light.

Juarez woke up in a pile of black rubber boots with Stevens lying on top of him. The door was open. There was no sign of Bad Horse.

Juarez elbowed Stevens in the side until the sniper grunted and slid off him. He rose to his feet, dusted off his ass and walked out into Dr Horrible's -Billy's- apartment. His shoes crunched on broken glass.

The door lay in pine-scented shreds. Wilson's boots steamed gently in the fresh morning air. Juarez went into the kitchen. He leaned over the sink, pushed open the window and looked up at the street. It was a beautiful morning. There were no Mayan death gods. There was no smoke.

"We did it!" He punched the air. "We did it!"

The exclamation caught the attention of a few early morning walkers, who glanced down from the street at the basement window. A woman with shoulder-length red-brown hair and kind eyes smiled at Juarez as she walked arm in arm with her boyfriend. Her partner was a thin man in a brown hooded sweatshirt. He had tousled blond hair and a face that looked horribly familiar.

Juarez blinked and rubbed at his eyes. When he looked up again, the girl and her boyfriend had gone.

"Must have imagined it." Juarez muttered as he went back into the apartment to wake up Stevens. The curtains fluttered gently in a soft wind. The broken glass on the floor caught the morning sun and split its light into a rainbow of colors.

It was a beautiful day.


End file.
